Vicious Circle
by mimithenumberon
Summary: After serving a 5 month sentence, Filkins is back and he never quite forgave Ronnie for ratting him out to the cops. Because of him he lost time he would never get back so now, he was going to take something that Ronnie will never get back...Warning: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENTS, M/M, VIOLENCE, ROUGH SEX. I hope you like and please review. ENJOY! XD


**Warning: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENTS!, M/M, BAD LANGUAGE, UNDERAGE (Ronnie is 17...XD), ROUGH SEX, VIOLENCE **

**This was a request by TWILIGHTSPARKLE96 so she gets dibs on the idea. XD I honestly had a LOT of fun writing this and yes. I am deeply concerned about the state of my mind as you will soon find out, this is pretty intense...XD (The warnings may have given that away already though...) Well either way, i honestly hope you like it and if u can, i will deeply appreciate some reviews. Honestly, you may not realize how happy they'll make me but believe me, they will brighten up my entire day. ENJOY! XD **

**Also, I do NOT own Drillbit Taylor or and of the characters! (or this would have happened in the movie...XD) **

_**Vicious Circle**_

The place looked the same. The same streets. The same cars parked in front of the same houses. The same damn front lawns. If he didn't know any better he would have assumed someone pressed stop on the universal clock and paused the world in its tracks. And yet 6 months passed by since he'd last walked those streets. Well technically speaking he was driving on his shiny new motorbike, a flaming red MV-Augusta, and shredding the suburban silence with the roar of its powerful engine.

Nobody knew who he was. They couldn't see his face under the subterfuge of his pitch black biker helmet, but he could see them. His eyes fell on every woman and every man, searching for one in particular...No, his target wouldn't be on the streets now. He was at home and alone since his mother was still at work. He'd done his studying in advance. He knew where to find him, how to find him and what to do with him once that happened.

Filkins ground his teeth and twisted violently on the acceleration, becoming nothing but a red blur. Six months since he'd been deported back to Hong Kong to spend his time under house arrest. He was sentence to two years but if there was one thing he was good at, it was lying and once he put on his puppy eyes and his innocent, confused boy act he was let off with only five month for good behaviour.

He was supposedly barred by the law to ever set foot in the USA but everything can be bought and he had the cash. His allowance was three zeros more than an average citizen makes in a whole year of work. His parents weren't a problem. He hardly even knew them, they were home so little. He might as well have been living in a grand hotel for all the familiarity of his so called home. His best friend was the family cat, Jewel, and even she treated him with the typical feline indifference.

He hated it there. He always had hated the strict society, the crowded streets, the importance of honour and most of all, the severity and criticism of his never pleased father. No matter what he did, ever since he was young he'd never managed to receive a single smile from the old man, forget about a word of encouragement. But that was fine. He was used to it and he couldn't miss something he never had.

America on the other hand...The moment he'd stepped off the plain he knew there was something different about this side of the globe. Land of the free indeed. At first he wasn't sure how far he could push the limits but then he soon found out everything was allowed as long as you knew how to hide in plain sight. Having money was a fantastic bonus. He'd never felt as liberated as when he terrorised the lives of those pathetic kids. Kids who knew nothing of the harsh reality of life and though having to deal with a bully was the worst possible thing that could happen. Well, two bullies...

Filkins' nostrils flared and he saw red before his eyes for a second. As soon as thoughts of his partner in crime entered him mind he became like a bull seeing red. He wanted to break something. Preferably Ronnie's skinny neck. The last time he'd seen him was in court, as he was testifying against him. True, he had bullied him as well but the younger boy was all too happy to come to him, like a moth drawn to a flame. For all his whining and bitching, Ronnie had been attracted to his power and his money. The bullying started after that...

For six months he'd thought about Ronnie and the fury inside him only grew with each passing day. Now he was free and back and he had 25 weeks to think of the perfect punishment for the guy who dared rat him out. He was the cause of him losing a noticeable chunk of time of his life, something he could never get back, so he would in turn take something from him that he could never regain.

The young adult pushed the hand breaks so suddenly the tyres screeched and left black trails behind them. He didn't care if he wrecked the damn machine. He could buy another. Filkins 'parked' the MV-Augusta just inside the premises of the house, making sure to destroy the beautifully kept front lawn and step on the delicate bluebells arranged in a neat circle. He tore his helmet off and stared at the suburban house.

Throwing the protective gear carelessly behind him, he cleared the distance between himself and the front door in three easy strides. The door was locked. He contemplated breaking it but then thought against it. He had to be at least a little smart about this or he would have spent six months planning for nothing. He took a calming breath and looked around him. Jackpot.

Beside the cliché welcome mat was a flower pot. He knew from his research there would be a spare key under it. He smirked when he pulled back his hand and opened his fist to see a small house key settled in the centre of his palm. As silent as a ghost, he inserted the metal piece inside the lock and twisted clockwise. It clicked. A gentle push and the door opened slowly. He'd been inside Ronnie's house many times before and he committed the layout to memory.

While in his dreams he found himself walking the same corridor he was currently on countless times, then climbing the stairs, crossing that corridor until he reached the last room on the left. The red door was always closed in his dreams and so it also was in reality. He paused outside it for a moment, listening. Loud rock music drifted from inside and he grinned upon recognising Ronnie's favourite band. Then his grin morphed into a growl and he shoved the door open, letting it bang against the wall loudly.

Ronnie was on his bed, book opened in his hands but he jumped up, fright widening his eyes and a cry of alarm tore from his lips. His position went on the defence automatically ready for fight or flight. Then recognition struck and his fear turned to confusion. Filkins took all of those fleeting reactions in, all having happened in less than a second.

'What's wrong Ronnie? Didn't you miss me?' He took a threatening step towards the once more panicking teenager.

'Fil-Filkins? What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here...' Ronnie backed away as far as he could, feeling the wall press against his back. He recognised that look in Filkins' eyes. It was the same look he gave his victims, one which foretold unimaginable cruelty and pain. The same look a predator gave his prey.

'Why? Did you really think your pathetic _confession_ was going to be enough to keep me away forever? How dumb are you?' Another step and Ronnie visibly flinched. His palms pressed against the wall as if hoping to somehow move it further and place more distance between the approaching threat.

'No...Listen Terry. I didn't mean to-'

'To what? Go crying like a bitch to the cops or to get me deported? If you really didn't mean it then you would have kept your mouth shut.' Ronnie began sliding away, away from Filkins, unaware he was backing himself straight into a corner. By the time he realized his fatal mistake he was trapped between the bed, the wall and the bully.

'I'm sorry!-' Ronnie didn't have time to say more before he felt a numbing sting spread across his cheek. He whimpered, his hand moving automatically to his slapped skin.

'No you're not. But by the time I'm done, you will be.' Filkins' voice was a growl, igniting a deep primal fear inside Ronnie. It gave him courage and, taking the older boy by surprise, he suddenly pushed against the unprepared chest moving Filkins just enough for him to squeeze by. He darted out of the room and down the stairs without looking back.

As soon as he reached the bottom step however he felt a grip catch him by the back of his hoodie and pull back harshly, cutting his air track so suddenly he choked and began coughing. He turned to see a not-amused expression on Filkins' face. Now he deeply regretted his foolish actions. He should have just stood there and taken the beating. He'd been a bully for long enough to know there was nothing more stupid than facing the oppressor. Not unless you're sure you can win and Ronnie wasn't even sure he could survive...

'You think you can fight me?' Ronnie threw Filkins a pleading look of desperation but that only seemed to please the adult more since a wide grin began stretching his lips. 'Go on then. Fight me.' He let go of the hoodie and Ronnie stumbled forwards, barely managing to regain his balance before falling.

'Terry please...'

'Shut up! I'm giving you a chance here to fight or do you want to take a beating like a good little whore?' Ronnie realized there was no point in begging for mercy because there would be none. Not even a shred. Fear ceased his heart and held it in its ice cold clutch. He turned tail and made another run for it, stumbling into the kitchen, but he felt the other behind him. He felt his presence even before h felt the pain blooming in his side or the powerful hand yanking him by the neck and throwing him against the kitchen counter. The sharp edge dug into his unprepared abdomen and he yelled out in pain.

That was the worst thing to do however and he turned around just in time to see the fist before it punched him across the mouth. Ronnie tasted blood on his tongue and it was bitter. He felt sick and dizzy. Even if he wanted to fight he couldn't, Filkins was far stronger than him, that much he always recognised. The more he would struggle the harsher the punishment would be...

'You really are a pathetic pussy. Just standing there and taking it. Or are you a freak who likes pain?'

'What do you want from me?! You want to beat me up, fine! Get it over with!' Ronnie regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He hadn't intended to have an outburst but it was hard to think when he could barely breathe without feeling like his ribs would all spontaneously break.

'Well look who found his tongue. Get it over with? Oh no. I want to enjoy this.' Filkins leaned in, his nose practically touching Ronnie's. 'You cost me five months of my life. Time I will never get back so now, now I'm going to take something irreplaceable from you.' His low voice shook Ronnie to his very core but the strange thing was, it wasn't with fear...It was something much more primal. He found himself swallowing dryly, unable to concentrate on anything else other than Filkins' breath dancing across his lips...

'Don't do this...' Ronnie wasn't sure how he knew but he did. Alarm bells went crazy inside his mind, deafening and drowning any other thought. He attempted to stop the shaking of his arms and legs but failed.

Filkins didn't say anything but moved a leg in between Ronnie's, grinding his knee against his crotch. Ronnie's eyes went wide, his mouth forming a perfect o shape. With a smirk, the older of the two reached for his dark brown hoodie and pushed it apart, breaking the zip with the force of his movements, shoving it down its owner's struggling arms. Ronnie bent his elbows, pressing them against the counter, already half way on it in his attempt to get away from Filkins.

'Where do you think you're running off to little rabbit? Afraid the big bad wolf will eat you?' Filkins pressed his knee harder against the material of Ronnie's jeans, extracting a loud gasp, and his fingers abandoned the hoodie to grasp the hem of the white t-shirt. He pulled it up, exposing the other's skin, ignoring Ronnie's weak attempts to stop him. His eyes studied the thinner but well-built frame appreciatively. He licked his lips in anticipation, something which wasn't lost to Ronnie.

Suddenly Filkins groaned, moving a step backwards. Ronnie didn't wait around to see if his kick did any real harm. He rolled down the other side of the counter and ran in the direction of the nearest exit point. A window covered the wall which stood between the kitchen and the back yard. He headed for the door in the centre of said window and managed to open it with trembling fingers. His hoodie fell down his arms somewhere behind him but he didn't stop to pick it back up. He took all of three steps, his bare feet sinking in the freshly cut grass, before he felt the emerald blades all over his face.

Filkins turned him over on his back before straddling his waist and pinning him to the ground with his weight. He grasped Ronnie's wrists and pressed them into the earth, holding them down until the younger boy stopped struggling to get free.

'That's the last time you do that, you hear? Next time I'll break your leg.' Ronnie knew it wasn't an empty threat. He'd been enough times around him to know Filkins was a complete psychopath when he so wished it. Nearly running over kids with his car, nearly cutting one down with a samurai sword, nearly beating two to death with a lamp. Those were nothing compared to what he was truly capable of doing to someone if they got on his wrong side...

'Why are you doing this?...' Ronnie stopped struggling but his wrists continued to twist and turn, fighting of their own volition.

'You know why. I told you why you little rat.'

'But why are you doing _this_?!' Filkins leaned over his prey, his eyes holding Ronnie's.

'Because I can.' Before the teen had a chance to say anything else, he felt a rough pair of lips descend upon his. Filkins bit his lower lip and Ronnie winced, the cut still fresh and stinging. 'Open your mouth.' Ronnie kept it stubbornly shut and Filkins narrowed his eyes. Without any prior warning, he kneed the younger boy's gut, causing him to yell out. Exactly what he'd been waiting for.

Ronnie's pained scream was eagerly swallowed by Filkins' devouring mouth. His tongue pushed against the unprepared one, chasing his own pleasure and ignoring Ronnie's. His kisses were like his punches. Vicious. All teeth and bites and a tongue driving in like a spear. Ronnie couldn't breathe and the lack of oxygen began to make him dizzy. He tried moving his head but as soon as he did, one of Filkins' hands reached to hold his face, the fingers digging into his cheeks, and he was right back where he started.

Ronnie used his free hand to try and push against the bully but he might as well try moving a mountain for all the good it did him. His legs kicked out, the lack of air becoming a serious discomfort and he yelled into the kiss, a noise which was muffled. His vision became blurry and his body went limp. What a shit way to die...Kissed to death...He honestly hoped that wasn't what they'd write on his tombstone.

Fresh air rushed through him and he swallowed greedily. Too greedily and he coughed, choking on the sweet breath of life. He was still placid, his body too distracted with breathing to notice Filkins' hands pushing up his white shirt, all the way to his neck. But when those same hands ran down his freshly exposed skin, the nails leaving angry red marks in their wake, reality shook him up and Ronnie's sense went on full alert once more.

'Filkins wait. Don't do this...Not here at least. Anyone could see...' It was true. The only thing separating the back yard from the public street was a thin hedge of rose bushes. It wasn't much of a cover and it certainly wasn't sound proof.

'Would that humiliate you?' Ronnie nodded slowly, hoping to gain some sort of sympathy from the other but came face to face with a Cheshire Cat grin instead. 'Good. Now you'll feel how I felt for five fucking months. And if you hold your voice back I'll beat you within an inch of death understand? You were so eager to speak in court so now you can put that fucking mouth of yours to good use.'

Filkins' knee was still pressed to Ronnie's groin so he felt it. A stir. He looked at Ronnie closely and studied his eyes. Yep, there was definitely more than fear there. He smirked when he saw the faint but noticeable presence of lust.

'Wha-what is it?' His voice was trembling but Ronnie wasn't sure why anymore. Was it really only fear? Then why was his gut twisted in knots like when he saw a sexy lady pass by?...

'You like the idea of having an audience? Wanna have someone see me fuck you into the ground?' There it was again. A tremor running all the way down the smaller body, all the way down south.

'No...' Even his voice was deeper. Ronnie's mouth went dry and he found himself regretting Filkins' decision to end the kiss.

'No? Then do you like the dirty talk? You like me calling you a deplorable slut?' A deep blush crept up Ronnie's skin, spreading from his neck to his cheeks and his eyes went slightly darker. He still looked like he was freaking out but for entirely different reasons as opposed to a mare five minutes ago...

'Stop...Please stop.' Ronnie tried to bury his head into the grass, hoping to get away from the intense gaze studying him attentively. And the grin on the hungry mouth ready to eat him up.

'You don't want me to stop.' To prove his point Filkins rubbed his knee against that oh so sensitive spot and was rewarded with a soft gasp which Ronnie didn't manage to catch in time. 'You want me to tell you exactly what I'm going to do to you. Admit it.'

Ronnie bit on his lower lip, ignoring the sting of his lip until tears began welling at the corners of his eyes. He screwed them shut, hoping to wake up in his bed after a freaky nightmare, but opened them suddenly when Filkins retreated his grinding knee. He looked at the other questioningly and with confusion showing openly on his face. Shouldn't it be joy? Why was he so damn disappointed?!...

'...I do...' Ronnie's lips trembled even harder upon his admittance. He couldn't meet Filkins' eyes. He wanted to crawl away and ball into a corner and forget about the whole damn day. At least he said so to himself but what he really wanted was...

'I'll fuck you until you won't remember your own name. I'll fuck you like the bitch you are and I'll teach you where your place is. On your hands and knees, under me.' Ronnie moaned softly, forgetting his wish to keep silent.

'You really are a freak.' Ronnie looked up at Filkins with the same pleading eyes but not begging for his freedom. Begging for the opposite of that actually. And who was Filkins to refuse?

He descended upon the welcoming lips with fervour, taking, taking, taking but not giving. His hands moved to grasp Ronnie's hips and he pulled him upwards, causing their clothed erections to meet and spark some much needed friction. Ronnie's hands were free but instead of trying to run away they met behind Filkins' neck, pulling him closer and bucking his hips against his in a very wanton way.

'You like that? You like the feel of my dick against yours?' Ronnie nodded quickly, his hands trying to pull Filkins back down to him, his tongue missing the other already. But the Asian had another idea...

He pulled back, dragging Ronnie with him into a sitting position and tangled his hands in the shoulder length messy hair. He tugged on it hard enough to make the younger boy hiss and arch his neck at an almost painful angle. Filkins moved his lips over the pulsing skin, feeling the blood rushing through the jugular, barely brushing the flesh. It made Ronnie want to scream for him to stop testing, though he held his tongue for fear of angering Filkins. The lips travelled all the way to the lobe of his ear. Ronnie shivered when he felt the teeth grazing not quite gently.

'I'm getting tired of waiting. Act like the whore you are and please me.' Ronnie swallowed audibly, feeling his entire being ignite. It was like Filkins' lusty voice caused his blood to be replaced with liquid fire. His breathing became laboured and his mind raced, trying to come up with a way in which he could carry out the other's orders. However Filkins was not the patient sort. He suddenly bit on the exposed throat hard enough to draw blood. The fragile skin ripped under the pressure of his canines like tissue and he swiped his tongue over the warm liquid trickling down the white flesh.

'Don't keep me waiting bitch.'

Ronnie's neck was still bent backwards, held in place by Filkins' unforgiving fingers, so he had to rely only on his sense of touch. He pressed his unsure palms against the broad chest, feeling the material of Filkins' black shirt. His biker jacket was gone, probably thrown somewhere back in the house. Ronnie let his hands trail down until they reached the leathery texture of Filkins' belt. He had a bit of a hard time with this, but he finally managed to unbuckle it without aid from his sight.

His neck was beginning to hurt and it was difficult to swallow or breath, yet Filkins didn't seem to give a shit. If anything, the closer Ronnie's hands got to his member the harder he pulled on the hair, to the point where his scalp began to burn like he imagined contact with acid would. But he pushed the inconvenience out of the way and concentrated on his task. His fingers fond the zip and pulled it down.

He was surprised to find no further material in his way. Filkins was going commando, probably prepared in advance for this. Ronnie blanked when his fingertips made first contact with something soft but powerful, alive and hot. He'd never touched one that wasn't his and was shocked at how different it felt.

'Use your hand. Start stroking.' Ronnie was shaken out of his distracted trail of thought by Filkins' impatient directions. He moved his hand reluctantly further inside the confinement of the opened jeans until he managed to enclose the circumference. It was so damn hot...Hotter than any other thing he'd ever touched without getting burned.

Unsure if he was doing the right thing, but unwilling to procrastinate any longer, Ronnie began moving up and down, up and down, working on building a rhythm. His eyes moved to look at Filkins' just visible at the corners of his vision, and was surprised to see him with flared nostrils and closed eyes. He would have assumed the guy was furious had it not been for the way he bit his lip and his laboured breathing.

For the first time, Ronnie felt a little in control and he strived to hold his position. He moved his hand with more and more certainty after each stroke, felling the member growing under his very fingers. It was oddly exiting, knowing he was the cause of this reaction and he touched all the spots he knew were sensitive from personal experience. Nobody knew how to touch a man like a man.

'That's right. Just like that. You seem to know what you're doing. This not your first time my little whore?'

'It is.' Ronnie barely managed to speak those short words with his neck at such an awkward angle. Filkins scoffed against his ear.

'Good. I want you to remember your first time was taken by the man you betrayed. And every time you get fucked in the future I want you to remember this and how much you liked being taken by me you fucking pussy.' Ronnie found himself moaning again, the sound louder than anticipated. The fear of being heard or seen returned like a fast moving train and the panic made him stop his hand movements.

'You're starting to really piss me off now.' Ronnie was about to utter a hasty apology but Filkins released him from his hold and he fell back to the ground. His neck returned to its up-right position far too quickly and it protested with a blinding pain spreading all along Ronnie's nervous system.

Filkins was far beyond reason by this point. He was far beyond holding back. He spared Ronnie a glance, drinking in the flushed skin, the parted lips, the heaving chest, the twitching fingers, the messy hair, the shin of perspiration and let loose a primal sound which could only be associated with sex. He grasped Ronnie's angular hips, hard enough to bruise, and with one powerful move, flipped the smaller body on his front.

Ronnie shook his head, pain shooting through his neck, when he found himself shoved in the dirt. He looked over his shoulders to see Filkins looking back at him, his hands pulling on his hips until he was forced on his knees. Ronnie knew what was coming and though a part of him was screaming to dash into the street and scream for the cops, a much bigger part of him wanted to spread his legs. That last one won the internal battle and Ronnie's legs moved as far apart as they could, firstly waiting patiently until Filkins tore the jeans and boxers down his thighs.

'This is where you belong. This was always your place. With your legs spread and your ass up, waiting for my cock.' Ronnie didn't deny it because he couldn't. He wanted this. If Filkins wanted to punish him he should have ended it right there and Ronnie was certain he would have died. He'd never thought of himself as a masochist before, but it fit perfectly. Why else would he follow Filkins like his own personal dog after constantly being abused and beaten?

Ronnie flushed an even darker shade of scarlet when he felt the other's hands grope his ass and spread it apart. He buried his face in the ground, wishing to transform into a mole so could hide below the soft carpet of green. But his head snapped right back up when he felt an alien intrusion enter him. He involuntarily tried to move away but Filkins held him in place. All he could do was ball his hands into fists and press them against the ground while every muscle in his tense frame turned to stone.

The intruded didn't pause to give him a chance to adjust. It drove in, all the way to the knuckle, only to pull back and repeat the motion over and over and over again. Ronnie closed his eyes and concentrated his hardest on relaxing his body. He focused on the thrusts, feeling the way Filkins' finger pressed against the ringed tunnel inside him.

Then another finger joined the first and Ronnie had to start from step one. It wasn't quite painful but it wasn't pleasant either. And then visitor number three joined his brothers. Ronnie yelped, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes once more. Filkins didn't stop, he didn't even pause. He drilled the cave, excavating for some deeply hidden gold. And when he found it...

Ronnie's spine arched and a loud moan left him. He didn't have to look back to know Filkins was smirking that triumphant smirk of his. The digits pulled back and Ronnie expected to feel that deep pleasure inside him again but then they thrust back at a different angle. Ronnie knew Filkins had done it intentionally since there was no possible way the other hadn't heard his loud, ardent moan.

Ronnie's fists were clenched so hard his knuckles turned white and blades of grass tore from their roots. Each thrust that didn't meet that magic spot inside him was a torture and Ronnie was fast approaching his limits. Filkins seemed to be waiting for something...

'Terry pl-please. Stop teasing...' He bucked his hips backwards, meeting the fingers before they had a chance to fully withdraw.

'Only if you fuck yourself on my fingers.' Ronnie was too far gone the path of depravity to question his actions. He followed Filkins' instructions all too eagerly, like a dog eager for a scrap of his master's attention. He bucked his hips into Filkins' hand, managing to find the right angle on his fourth try. His movements became faster and more impatient as the pleasure began to build. He was aware of Filkins' watching eyes and it brought new level of excitement to the mix.

'That's enough.' Ronnie whined when he found himself empty and almost begged for them back.

He probably would have done just so had he enough time, but Filkins wound his powerful hand around Ronnie's throat and pulled him up, driving him right into his impelling member. The younger man's jaw fell open but no sound came out. He choked, caught between a gasp and a moan and a yell and every other noise in between. Filkins nuzzled the dishevelled hair, smelling fresh cut grass and shampoo, actually giving Ronnie a chance to adjust to something so much more filling than three fingers. He left a surprisingly soft trail of kisses along the curve of Ronnie's nape all the way to his right ear.

'I'm going to take what's rightfully mine now.' Without further ado, Filkins pulled harshly on Ronnie's throat almost completely cutting off his air supply and began thrusting inside the hot tunnel. He didn't take it slow since this was still a punishment and he was still angry with Ronnie. A six month planned vendetta isn't so easily forgotten.

Each time Filkins drove inside him, Ronnie felt a little more of the scarce oxygen leave his lungs. His fingers grasped at Filkins' but he couldn't do anything against what seemed to be steel cords wrapped around his respiratory tunnel.

'Te-Terry...Can't breathe...' The hold around his neck loosened but didn't let go completely. Filkins' other hand was pressed firmly against Ronnie's hip, pulling him harshly against him to meet his violent thrusts. The older man's movements became more and more hectic and wild, chasing his own pleasure. However he hit the magic spot inside Ronnie with every drive so the ecstasy was shared by both.

Filkins leaned in to latch his lips to Ronnie's throat, his teeth leaving signatures all over the unmarked skin. He didn't care if Ronnie would get in trouble because of those tells. He only cared for the world to know that Ronnie Lampanelli was his and his alone. His property. His dog.

'Fuck Ronnie. Come for me.' Hearing Filkins' voice drenched in lust, lust for him, proved to be the last and final push. The bubble of pleasure building inside him finally burst and it having been Ronnie's first such experience, caused him to twitch with the aftershocks of the orgasm. His mind went black and his body went limp, melting into Filkins' grasp. He was out cold before the other finished with him.

The sudden tightness of Ronnie's muscles around Filkins' member milked him for all his worth. He didn't pull out but let his seed fill his property, marking Ronnie in a way no amount of baths or time could ever wash away. He let the youth fall to the ground, going after him, barely suspending his weight on his powerful arms. His eyes fell on Ronnie's frame below him. He turned him over, brushing the long strands away from the peacefully slumbering face and simply looked at the boy who he'd trusted and who'd betrayed him.

Filkins dropped down, placing a gentle kiss on the swollen lips, tasting some more of Ronnie's blood. He committed the taste to memory.

* * *

Ronnie woke up with a start, his eyes darting around searching for Terry Filkins. But he wasn't on the back lawn. He was alone, in his bed, fully dressed. He looked around him in confusion but as soon as he turned his neck, searing pain exploded across it. In fact his entire body hurt. He could barely move, much of his skin already visibly bruised. He ran his tongue over his lip and felt the cut as well as tasted the dry blood.

So it hadn't been a dream. A nightmare? No...Despite it all he'd enjoyed it. He really was a sick fuck and a slut like Filkins said... Filkins. Where was he? Ronnie moved slowly out of bed, his bones and muscles protesting with every passing second.

Then the roar of a powerful engine drifted to his ears...Forgetting the hurt, forgetting the pain, Ronnie jumped up and moved to the window, looking out it with critically searching eyes. They easily found the red expensive looking motorcycle and the man sitting atop it. Though his face was hidden by the biker helmet, Ronnie recognised Filkins. As if sensing someone watching him, the rider turned his head to meet Ronnie's gaze and he turned to a human state. Even if he wanted to move away from the window, Ronnie was petrified, his feet rooted to the floor.

He watched Filkins point at him and then point at himself. The message was clear. He belonged to him and he knew it. He didn't run away from it anymore because there was no point. It was a vicious circle, their relationship. A never ending cycle and they were both trapped inside the loop.

Ronnie nodded slowly, feeling something he couldn't quite name yet spreading inside him with the flow of his blood. Satisfied, Filkins looked in his direction for a few more seconds before finally releasing him from the hold of his gaze and sped away, driving down the suburban street like a maniac.

He was nothing but a red speck in less than a minute yet Ronnie knew he'll be back...

* * *

**So, you've reached the end! XD When i wrote the last three words i couldn't help thinking of the Terminator movies. Every time i read over it i just read in in an Arnold Schwarzernegger voice and i crack up laughing...Yeah. Maybe i should consult a medic...O3O **

**Well Thank You for the read and please leave a review if u can. I'll appreciate it greatly! X3 **

**HAVE A LOVELY DAY! **


End file.
